The Dark Path To Memory Lane
by Tacitus Umbra
Summary: There's only so much one woman can go through before being pushed over the edge. For Rachel, this point was surpassed many years ago, but perhaps she can claw back some humanity in the presence of a new companion: an amnesiac special operations elite. It won't be easy though, as the world has been plunged into an apocalypse as chaotic as the minds of those who inhabit it.
1. Chapter 1

-AN

I hold no stock in and take no credit for the fantastic Halo universe, otherwise I would be filthy rich living it up in some beautiful and isolated part of the world. I simply stake claim to my characters and plot.

Be warned, this story is rated M for morbidity, containing strong violence, blood, swearing and macabre themes.

Though the same base universe has been retained from the original TLYWTML. This story follows a distinctly different path. Thus, it's kind of a rewrite but not simply a rehash.

Enjoy.

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><p>Chapter 1: When Paths Intersect<p>

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><p>"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." The woman's feet were pounding against the ground in repeated dull scuffs as she sprinted; yet, with each progressive step, the energy available for the next was diminished significantly. She was constantly reminded of the bullet embedded in her calf by the sharp, throbbing pain emanating from the region.<p>

Eventually, she slowed, her right leg visibly crumpling with each further impact against the floor until her run became distinctly lop sided, resembling a fast limp. She turned a corner into the next street. The cold, bland light of the world's local star landed on her dark features as she exited the shadow of the empty road she had been traversing prior. The tall woman was now clasping her injured leg, clearly acknowledging her inability to keep up the pace. Her hasty but controlled green eyes flicked back and forth across the scene before fixating on the glass door to a shop, situated slightly ahead of her.

"Good enough." she muttered through rows of grit teeth as she hastily shuffled over and barged the unlocked portal open.

Moments later, two disheveled men burst around the same corner and slid to a stop. They paused, looking around for a moment. "She's bleeding. Come on. Help us find the trail." announced by one of the men in an undeniably course voice.

Unfortunately for the subject of their pursuit, the two quickly sighted a small spatter of the unmistakable red fluid through the transparent shop front. The spotter tilted his head in the door's direction and pushed it open. Within a short amount of time both men were sweeping the aisles in search of the injured individual. The shelves were empty, looted, except for a few random food items in attractive packets and bags. Of course, they would have been attractive if their contents hadn't been years past their sell by date.

Behind one particular, fairly inconspicuous metal door stood the individual of interest. Surrounding her were various bleaches and disinfectants, along with total darkness. Her eyes were focused intently and unwavering on the entrance – her hands tensed into firm fists, her face bathing in a thin film of sweat but simultaneously relaxed into a calm, neutral expression.

Footsteps sounded from beyond the egress. They increased in volume steadily until it was evident someone was directly outside.

The woman waited.

The passage of time slowed.

The handle turned.

The door exploded open from the force of the woman ramming it with her full body mass.

Completely taken by surprise, the man behind was thrown against the shelf opposite; although, this likely hurt significantly less than being kneed in the face with an equivalently large amount of force. He was left wholly unconscious after the latter, and perhaps with a broken jaw, nose... face.

The woman turned to run but quickly halted this motion as she was met with the second man pointing a magnum at her from the end of the aisle. He fired twice, hitting the intended target both times. The target spasmed left and then right as she was struck, losing her footing and falling onto her front across the legs of the incapacitated man. She was still. The atmosphere was unmoving. The air resonated with the sharp, distant boom of the gunshots.

Approaching the woman cautiously, the man brought the gun to bear on her head, with the intention of ensuring her demise.

However, never did the final shot come. Instead, the weapon clattered to the floor as massive, black clad arms wrapped around his neck like the colossal branches of some ancient tree. His limbs extended outwards as he was lifted several feet above the ground. He clawed at the immutable vice clamp contracting around his airways before he was shaken violently in one fast lateral motion. The vomit inducing snap that accompanied the movement confirmed that his neck had indeed been broken, if the fact that his entire body had gone disturbingly limp did not evidence this enough.

At this point the woman's eyes snapped open and she released several hoarse coughs, followed by large gasps of air. Pushing herself up and turning around into a sitting position, she first noticed that she had been consumed by a dwarfing shadow. Still breathing deeply, her emerald eyes traced along the shadow to its source: a huge, ebony armoured, four fingered alien figure. Triflingly insignificant against his bulk was the corpse he held in his arms, which he dropped by opening out the extremities. The body gave a weighty thump as it collapsed to the ground, but this went largely unnoticed as all attention was focused on the considerably proportioned sangheili – its sharp and pointed helmet, its wickedly curved shoulder pauldrons, its heavy and reflective armour.

The behemothic entity stepped over its kill and encroached towards the prone, stolid faced and comparatively small woman. She simply remained still, measuring the creature's features, positing as to his intentions. Her neck was forced to the limit of its rotational axes in order to see to the top of the huge alien's form.

The woman's gaze flicked rapidly to the figure's left hand as it extended downwards in front of her. It switched between the hand and the helmet once or twice, while the owner of both stood completely unflinching.

Having reached some kind of resolution, she grabbed the hand with her own left. Thick muscles corded and pulled her up to a position of verticality once more. She was forced to bounce her leg several times on the way in order to reach an equilibrium which would not cause pain in her injured side. Once standing, and still with her eyes fixed to her saviour, she hopped over to the adjacent shelving and leaned on it.

The figure's head turned to track her as she did so.

Tiring of the silence that continued to permeate the air, the woman stated "Hi." Her voice was deep and somewhat rough by her gender's standard.

The shop's other occupant moved his full body to face her and responded "Greetings female." The air itself almost shook with the bass of the alien's voice, and it was muffled slightly behind his helmet. "Are you alright?"

Seemingly confused, she leaned her head forwards and released a questioning "Hmm?"

The head of the larger individual pulled back slightly. "You... you were shot twice."

The woman gave a dismissive upwards nod, her long black hair shifting with the motion, "Three times. It's cool." She patted her chest with her right hand "Armour vest."

A pause ensued.

"So what's the deal?"

"Deal?"

"You saved my life. What are you asking for in return?"

"Could I not have helped you simply out of compassion?" The alien's tone was questioning.

For several moments he stood under the intense yet neutral gaze of the short human, while she considered her answer.

"Unlikely." stated in a dead pan which seemed to cut off any prospect of further argument. "So, state what you want."

"As you say human." He took in a deep breath through his mask "I am very tired. I've been awake for the passing of at least two cycles of day and night, during which time I have been set upon by all manner of man and woman. I'm hungry and dehydrated." The sangheili began pacing now, heavy feet producing surprisingly small thumps on the smooth, dusty floor. "I have acquired a persistent migraine. Additionally, I seem to have some form of amnesia, because I have no idea what I'm doing on this world... or who I am." He stopped, looking towards his company for a response.

Throughout the whole exchange she appeared not to have moved once. Sensing the alien's hesitation, she cocked her head "I'm not seeing the request here. Blood is also slowly fucking off out of my leg right now."

With a reflexive rub of the head (or helm, since the former was thoroughly covered up) the sangheili redirected his words towards his point "Do you have a place I could rest up at, and if so, may I?"

Some expression finally crossed the woman's face in the form of a considerate movement of the lips as she gave a nod. The activity was only temporary, however: her features reverted to neutrality as she spoke up again "Are you a rapist?"

The being in question recoiled at the very mention of the word and a disgusted, guttural stutter escaped between the slits in his head gear.

"Is that a yes?"

"No!" one could have sworn the shelves rumbled with that statement.

"No that's not a yes?"

"Yes!"

"So presumably it's a no."

"Yes."

"Are you a paedophile?"

"Fuck," the word sounded odd in the sangheili's mouth, as though it was not familiar to its tongue, "no!"

"Hmm. Cannibal?"

"No, what is wrong with you woman?"

"I'm simply ascertaining whether there's anything wrong with you."

"Ahhhhhh."

Both heads in the room snapped towards the unconscious man that lay beside the human. He appeared to be rousing.

The woman raised her index finger to the alien "One moment." She reached into an internal compartment of her black trench coat and removed a Swiss Army knife. Flicking out its blade she turned and embedded it into the side of the man's neck before forcing it through almost 180 degrees to the other side. He released a few sickening gurgles of blood before his life force gave way. The visceral ejection of fluids was gruesome, and some of it painted over the human's dark skin.

"Lehhh." the woman pulled back her hand and wiped it against the man's clothes. "I hope you don't have AIDS." She then drew the flat of the knife along the deceased's trousers, leaving behind a streak of red. The weapon was closed and stowed away into a different compartment by the woman, who stood up – shakily, on account of her leg.

Turning back to the sangheili she found him motionless, not pacing or shuffling but motionless.

"What?"

"One cannot simply kill in cold blood."

"One can. One does, when the subject is a cannibal, if not a rapist or paedo. I don't see the relevance of whether someone's armed as to the worth of their life. The end result is the same either way."

The assuredness with which her words were spoken chilled the alien. "That is _a_ rationale." he conceded.

"A solid one."

The woman shook her head. "Anyway, I'm injured, the day's dragging on and there's a distance to walk, which is an issue." She gestured to her leg. "Though I don't know you, your actions have highlighted you as trustworthy enough." The woman's two eery orbs bore down on the sangheili for a moment, their otherworldliness sending mild shudders along his spine. "Don't fuck around with that."

"I will not." He tilted his head alongside this. "You have my word."

"That's productive. Now help us loot these fuckers and let's be off." The disconcerting human pushed off from the shelf and knelt to search the pockets of her most recent piece of handiwork. "How should I address you by the way?"

The tall figure gave pause momentarily before answering "Call me Apex. What do you wish to be called by?"

The woman turned her deep green eyes to Apex. "My name is Rachel Taylor."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: An Idyllic Dot of Relative Tranquility

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><p><em>Two men. White. One bearded, short. One lightly stubbled, tall.<em>

_Wait for a moment, be ready, evaluate their intentions._

_"Well aren't you a fine piece." Sexual intent._

_"Ain't she just, and tasty lookin' too." Intent for food source._

_Reasoning unlikely to be successful. Running possible... No, actions won't stop at me. They must die._

_Melee combat most suitable, quiet, saves ammo, can have first strike._

_*Flick*_

_Knives. Two of them. Melee combat unfeasible. The magnum is required._

_The gun is snapped out quickly. Shorter man can move faster. Him first. Two shots to the chest. He drops._

_Larger man lunges. Too late. Two more shots, same place._

Rachel looked down at the dead men from her leaning position on the alley wall while Apex frisked them for useful supplies. She turned back to sight a third corpse.

_A door opens. A man peeks out, a baseball bat in his hands. He's close. I'm already running, need to slow down. Not enough time._

_My weapon is raised quickly. Too late. The bat collides with my hand. Pain._

The emerald-eyed woman rubbed on her bruised wrist absentmindedly.

_The gun drops, clatters. He kicks it away._

_Need to prevent next strike... Size? Average. A tackle is viable._

_We're both winded as we hit the ground, me on top. My knife is drawn, an operation enacted many times before._

_The blade is buried in his heart. Blood. Lot's of it. He's finished. The best option is to-_

_*Snap*_

_The air cracks with the sound of my magnum. Shouts signal the approach of two more threats. Upright, I move to turn the corner. A second shot – familiar sharp twinge spikes from right leg. I'm hit._

"Taylor?" the alien's resounding voice shook the woman from her reverie.

She reverted her gaze from long focus and turned towards the now standing Apex. "What?" Her tone was not confrontational, simply straight to the point.

"Are you well?"

" 'Well' is relative: I still have a bullet in my calf; however, my condition is no worse than it was one minute ago."

The sangheili was temporarily taken aback. "That's not what I'm referring to. Your attention seemed to phase out completely."

"Hmm." She flicked her eyes away from Apex for a moment before seemingly changing the topic "Time's wasting. Staying still is inadvisable. Give me those knives."

He handed her the weapons he'd retrieved from the bodies, slightly perplexed by her deflection of his question.

Rachel pushed off of the wall and beckoned the sangheili to assist her now unsupported right side.

He complied, holding the upper section of her right arm. In this way, the two moved out with the woman taking lead and setting the pace despite her inhibition. They emerged onto a bright open road, which they proceeded to cross.

In a glance at the larger individual, Taylor noted not for the first time the presence of a sizeable alien rifle across his back, as well as a strange weapon housing translucent pink shards just above his tail bone. Storing away this observation, she scanned over the scene for any forms of danger before speaking up "In response to your question," Apex turned to her for a moment to acknowledge that he was listening "I have a fucked up mix of eidetic and hyperthymestic memory."

"I'm not familiar with either of those terms."

"Few are. Eidetic memory allows you to remember sounds, visuals and emotions in near perfect detail."

The two stepped into the darkness of a second alley.

"Hyperthymestic memory allows you to remember almost everything that's ever happened to you. It also used to be referred to as autobiographical memory."

"That's fascinating." the sangheili conceded.

"I was thinking back to when I killed those men. It's involuntarily, uses up a lot of attention sometimes."

This gave the elite pause. "Does it make you feel the guilt all over again?" Apex ventured in a softer but still bass saturated manner.

"Guilt?" The woman did not appear to understand the connection.

"Of... ending another sentient being's life?"

"The term 'guilt' implies that one's done something wrong."

Silence.

It would be correct to say that the alien was unsure how to respond to that. He decided to just drop the issue: there was not much value in pursuing it at this moment.

Thusly, they continued, the woman's shoes scuffing against the floor whilst the alien's feet produced quiet squishes with each step.

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><p>"Aaaarrrggghhh!" A loud scream of agony ripped through the atmosphere. The distinctive sound of air catching against the wings of birds fell upon Taylor and Apex as the avians flew past, disturbed by the expression of pain.<p>

The two were thankfully heading in the opposite direction to the noise. Rachel was utterly unperturbed. In fact, one couldn't be sure whether she had heard it at all.

In the converse, the bulky sangheili ceased their movement in order to look back briefly. He turned toward his guide.

"You'll learn to ignore anything which don't directly pertain to you."

"Alright."

They walked on for a bit longer.

"Why is this world as it is Taylor?"

She cocked her head, losing herself down memory lane for a moment. Shortly, she returned to the present. "I believe some kind of electromagnetic pulse was set off... around nine years ago. It essentially knocked everyone back 700 years technologically."

"Hmm. And what happened to make things as violent and unforgiving as they are now?"

"People happened." The woman thought for a moment before asking a question of her own "What are you doing here?"

Apex shook his head. "As I said, I do not know. I awoke in a small room on a massive ship, bleeding from the head. It seemed to have crashed." He reached behind and tapped the carbine on his back. "I suited up in an armoury and tried to leave."

"Tried?"

"There were many dead in the hallways, but some surviving members of my own race attacked me..." A pause ensued as he attempted to remember something. "Some weird, squat, squeaky creatures got in my way too, as well as some... walking bird-like people."

"That sounds like a heavy drug trip to me."

He released a quiet but rumbling chuckle. "I suppose it does come across as somewhat surreal."

"Apex." The woman did not return his mirth, instead addressing him by his chosen name for the first time.

"Yes."

"The room you awoke in, was it a prison cell?"

Though the sangheili's eyes were covered, it was evident he was giving the question some thought as his head had moved to face dead ahead of him, an action commonly associated with contemplation. "It may have been. I did have a form of gauntlets on my wrists when I arose."

"You were a prisoner then. That's why they attacked you."

He gave a dismissive "Hmph." before continuing "Could I still be held accountable for a crime I'm not aware of committing?"

"Justice, in quotes, is subjective. It would depend who you're asking."

"You."

Her eyes lowered to the ground for a moment, she then automatically searched the environment for threats before responding "They say you are the sum total of your life's experiences. Since you can't remember any, you may as well be a new born child." She looked at him with an unwavering stare. "I don't know you, but it seems like your own conscience holds you back from being a danger to me, at least for now."

Although this was likely not the spirit in which it was said, the completely indifferent delivery resulted in the words falling on Apex in a relatively chastising manner. For the sake of peace, he simply neglected to respond.

Quickly shifting subject from deep inferences of character to casual and relatively normal matters, the incisive woman stated "We're nearly there."

"Mmm."

Approximately 10 seconds had passed when a door just in front of the two opened slowly.

Taylor reached across to her magnum with her left hand and trained it at the pale skinned woman who'd peeked out. "Step back inside."

The woman was paralysed, hands up, by the sudden appearance of the gun.

She raised her voice "Step inside bitch. I don't care who you are I am ready to fire." Her expression was cold and entirely serious.

Apex had now paused along with Rachel in order to focus his attention on the frightened human.

She gave a whimper, her eyes turning to the huge menace which stood beside Taylor before she whimpered once more and slammed the door shut as quickly as possible. The slam echoed throughout the area as the armed woman continued to aim at the door which produced it.

After a short while, she stowed the firearm away in her left trench-coat pocket. "May we proceed."

"I suppose." It would be clear to any normal individual that judgemental thoughts were passing through Apex's head surrounding what had just transpired. Fortunately for him, no normal individuals were present. The heavy-weight sangheili continued holding up the woman's arm. She moved almost in hops now, barely touching the floor on her injured side. This of course meant that around half her body mass was being supported by the alien; however, this was an inconsiderable burden. After all, he had earlier picked up an entire man as though he was simply a bag filled with cotton.

A few minutes later, the two turned a corner into a short culdesac containing five grandly sized and decorated houses, each with a small front garden and enough room for a reasonably large back one as well. Rachel led them towards the not-so-humble abode furthest away, at the very end of the road. She unlatched the gate, walked between the small patch of grass lawn on either side of the short paved path and, after detaching from her glorified crutch, hopped up the stairs to the door.

The entryway's two locks were opened via the keys Taylor had removed from an inner pocket, allowing both individuals to enter the stately and luxurious home.

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><p>"I need to get something. Stay here."<p>

"As you wish."

Apex was left in a medium sized dining room. It held an intense feeling of being untouched and unused, as though the house's occupants had simply stopped existing 9 years ago, and what the sangheili saw was just a snap shot of the place at that time. There was a book shelf filled with real, paper books, there were artistic portraits of various famous individuals from the annals of time hanging from the walls, a closed piano covered in a thick layer of dust and... framed photographs.

The alien walked around the room with his hands clasped behind his back, inspecting each picture. He did not spot the glow of Rachel's distinguishing eyes in any of them. In fact, the subjects of each photo shared no physical similarities with the woman whatsoever, indicating a lack of relation.

As Apex pondered this, he heard Taylor's uneven gait as she stepped back through the open doorway. In one hand was a relatively bulky torch and a flat head screwdriver, its end bent into an even curve. In the other was some kind of canister. She set the latter down on the large table opposite the piano and handed the former two objects to the alien.

He allocated both to a separate hand and looked at the sharper implement quizzically.

"The position of my wound is inconvenient." Rachel stated evenly. "It would be more suitable if you were to remove the bullet."

"Ok."

Pause.

"I appreciate the gesture of trust."

The woman simply stared at Apex, her thoughts hidden behind her ever-inscrutable countenance.

After taking a moment to clean the table, she drew up her trouser leg and lay on top of the surface with her right side, facing away from her company.

Seeing the dark, blood spattered hole in her leg, the sangheili removed his helmet, revealing his appearance: dark brown scales, a scar stretching across one of the large, yellow, slitted eyes, and four long mandibles extending from his jaw.

Rachel observed these features for a moment; however, her interest was short lived. She reached back and turned on the torch before facing away. "Sooner is better than later."

"Indeed." Rotating his light source to the wound, he squinted and leaned forward. He noted the small black object embedded therein and questioned "You are ready?"

"If I wasn't I wouldn't be lying here."

The sangheili awkwardly found a solid grip on the screwdriver in the four digits of his large hand.

Eyelids drew inwards slightly as the cold metal tool touched against Rachel's skin, and extended beneath it. One lid twitched when the end of the screwdriver caught on a bit of uneven muscle down the tunnel the bullet had cleaved. The motion was brief, as the metal length then slid smoothly past. Her eyes narrowed and her teeth grit as the implement was worked around at the base of the wound, trying to get a purchase on the bullet.

Taylor knew from experience that the next part was the most painful.

A sharp, quiet intake of breath accompanied the internal tug of the tool against the bullet, a small amount of flesh also caught by the flat head. Her lip was tugged upwards on one side into a contemptuous grimace as the metal projectile was raked across her numerous exposed nerve endings. Throughout all of this however, the whole rest of her body remained dead still.

Then, the relieving metallic tap of the bullet falling out onto the table reached her ears. Without delay, she sat up and grabbed the canister, spraying its cool, soothing foam into the injury until it overflowed slightly.

And that was that. The woman pulled the cuff of her trousers back and dislodged herself from the table. "You're relatively good at that. It could have been much more painful."

"Thank you. You are very stoic yourself."

Rachel took back the bullet dis-engorging tool and picked up the lamp and foam, moving to the door. She gestured her head in the direction of the portal. "Come."

He was led down into a relatively empty basement lit dimly by a similar torch to the one Taylor held now. His helmet hung idly in his hand. "How are these lights still working after an EMP?"

"They're tough, EMP proof, rechargeable, survivalist fucking lamps." For once, there was a just a very small amount of passion in her words.

"You have a high opinion of them." the alien observed.

"They brighten my world." It was difficult to infer from her tone whether she meant this literally or metaphorically. She could have meant either... or both.

"Quite." He followed the human as she limped to the area of space beneath the stairs.

She bent down carefully and opened out a large, hinged metal lid. It had concealed a long, gently sloping passageway, the bottom surface of which consisted of rough, abrasive stone. The passage extended into increasingly complete darkness.

"Step in." She stated simply.

Despite what his parents may or may not have told him about stepping into dark tunnels with near total strangers, the tall sangheili did as told, hunching over to avoid colliding with the head-level opening.

Rachel followed and pulled the lid shut using a piece of rope attached to its top. Now utterly without light, the woman stepped ahead of her charge and began descending. "Follow me." The words bounced around slightly in the hollow passage. Once more, the scuff of shoes and squish of feet was the only sound present, until they reached the slope's end.

Stepping onto smooth ground, Taylor turned some kind of handle, opening out a door. The sudden appearance of light resulted in both individuals wincing and covering their eyes.

From within the lit doorway, the woman announced "This is the bomb shelter. This is where I live."


End file.
